Casey walked up to him and smacked him into the middle of next week and Jordan followed up with a gut punch from hell. Casey looked down on him with fiery green eyes–her red hair seeming to turn into a bright and even fierier scarlet. Jordan looked at Jason impassively, his brown eyes so dark they seemed black.
Jason fell to one knee holding his left cheek and stomach.
“Yeah,” he coughed, “I deserved those.”
“Explain,” Casey said. “Now.”
Jason shook his head, slapped his chest, and rose to look his friends in the eyes, “Well, it’s a bit of a. . .” he thought it over in his head, “bullshit story.”
Jordan raised his fist and Jason put his hands up, “I mean that so much bullshit has happened that you probably wouldn’t believe it.”
“We’ve known you our entire lives, Jason!” Casey said. “You have ghost powers and you just fell out of the fucking sky. What could you possibly tell us that’s so goddamn unbelievable?”
“Well, here’s the thing. . .” Jason began. “Macklemore is a girl,” he paused as a scrunched up, surprised expression consumed their faces, “and she’s the daughter of the Macklemore’s, as in the most powerful family on the planet…and she’s been chasing me around because I had sex with her and never called her again.”
They looked at Jason incredulously, “What?!”
“Yeah,” He continued, “you know that girl I ended up taking home from that party, at the mansion? The one that looked like a supermodel?”
“You take home a lot of girls that look like supermodels,” Jordan said. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“Alright, uh. . .” Jason sighed and hummed. “She was about five-ten–maybe five-eleven– coke bottle body, thick in all the right places, long and flowy black hair, full lips, hazel eyes. . .”
“Alright Romeo,” Casey cut him off, “we got it. You couldn’t keep it in your pants and happened to fuck the host of the party, who just happened to be Leila Macklemore, daughter to the world’s only trillionaire, Thaddeus Macklemore.” Casey shook her head in disbelief, “You really know how’tah pick’em, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jason chuckled nervously, “last time I checked, I lost her somewhere around the Atlantic ocean,” He continued, “ but the technology she has access to is ridiculous.”
Jason stopped speaking and a look of stark seriousness washed over his face. The air seemed nonexistent and the surrounding warehouses, trucks, and forklifts had a sense of foreboding. A sense of emptiness. In fact, even the houses seemed too quiet, as if no one were there.
“Shit,” Jason whispered.
“What?” Jordan and Casey asked.
“This area’s been cleared,”
“What do you mean cleared?” Jordan asked.
“I mean,” Jason looked them in the eye, “she knew I was gonna end up here,” He sighed, “and it looks like shit’s about to hit the fan big time. . .again.”
“Alright guys,” Jason laid a hand on Casey and Jordan’s shoulders, “you in?”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?!” Casey said.
“Of course we’re in!” Jordan said. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
“Alright, she’ll be here in two minutes. So, we’re gonna go with plan C.”
“The Tandem Anthem?” Casey asked. “I don’t know, Jason, I may be too drunk to pull that off.”
“Yeah,” Jordan said, “she’s been hitting the bottle pretty hard since ya ghosted us. Tonight it was Patron and Jägermeister’s.”
“Who the hell’s idea was that?”
“Same thing I asked.”
“Uh, I’m right here,” Casey interrupted, “I’m not a child.”
“But you are a reckless drunk,” Jason said, “so, it’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Fuck you!” Casey hit him on the shoulder.
“Anyway,” Jason went on, “I already tried plans A and B so C’s all we got.”
“Well, no promises,” Casey said as she went to take her position.
“Don’t worry,” Jordan went to take his position, “I’ll cover if she fucks up.”
Tell me what you think in the comments! I read and reply to all of them and welcome feedback for improving my stories, poetry, and insights. Thanks for reading!